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Passing gas: one man's journey toward air-gun Nirvana

American Handgunner, July-August, 2004 by John Connor

Snortin' hard enough to suck up yogurt, I said "Yeah, right. Me and air pistols? Then I'll ride down the street on a little pink Barbie-Bike, the one with the dangly-flutteries on the handlebars." The editor, His Royness, looked like he was bitin' a lemon. We commenced an adult discussion of my background vis-a-vis burnt gunpowder and lead. I mentioned I'd had to fill out a personality profile a while back, and when I got to "Favorite Gadgets," I wrote in, "tend to be belt-fed, air-cooled, crew-served, and launch slugs that look like Upmann cigars." He was underwhelmed.

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"That's exactly why I want you--not an airgun, 'er, enthusiast--to write it." He had that "case closed" jaw-muscles thing going. I think he was still just pouty and sulky about the "ancillary expenses" from my Australian Expedition. Maybe he thought he was punishing me. He must have forgotten I have both military and law enforcement experience, and a classical education. Hence, my outlook on challenges is like William Shakespeare wrote, "Dudes! Suffer not the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune! Nay, bust 'em up, make of their shards a jolly campfire, then dance and piddle in the ashes!"--or something like that.

Airguns for Dummies

So I checked out airguns, typing it into Gurgle-Search and hittin' GO. It was like Galileo taking his first peep through a telescope! Did you guys know there are .50 caliber airguns, powered by SCUBA tanks'? Select-fire BB machine pistols? Those were a few of the 332,312 responses. I reached full boggle in ten minutes. That's when I turned to Steve and Eric at Compasseco. Those guys are the biggest airgun distributors in the U.S., and what they don't know about guns that go Pfffhhtt! ain't pfht.

I explained my current state of knowing-nothingness to them (it's a Zen thing), and after they stopped laughing, sent me a package. There were four pistol-like objects inside. I felt almost semi-okay then. First thing I noticed was they were all in .177 and no projectiles were included. I think, after we spoke, they didn't trust me with anything as fearsome as a .22 pellet-poorer., and wanted to avoid liability on the ammo issue. But, that's why God gave us Wal-Mart, right?

I got another wake-up call there. Even I knew about "pellets," but gold-plated hollowpoint hunting pellets? Spire-point hypervelocity hunting pellets? German-made precision-engineered wadcutter match-grade pellets? Oh, yeah, I suspect they also have SABOT pellets with depleted uranium cores. When they bring out a .22-cal SLAP round, I'm upgrading. From that, you might guess I found a sissy-air-pistol I couldn't live without, and you'd be right.

Way-Cool

Get on the 'Net and check out the Walther P99 Military. Now imagine it with a big can suppressor, top and side rails mounting a red-dot sight and Walther tactical light, and you've got the UMAREX CP Sport, AKA the Walther Nighthawk. Fair warning: Play with it, and it's yours. And you will bust your kid's chops if he or she screws it up. This is big-kid, serious fun.

The Nighthawk is a semi auto CO2-powered pellet-popper with an eight-shot rotary mag, and on a scale of one to ten, a Fun Factor of about 19. Walther went all the way on this piece, folks. The red-dot sight is full-on fine, with 11 brightness levels and sharp, clear optics. Even the tactical light, which came with wiring and pressure-pad grip mount, is a dang good light on or off the pistol.

Of the four air pistols tested, the Walther is the most complex, but also the most user-friendly. It's a cinch to plug a CO2 cartridge into the butt, snap pellets into the round "magazine"--you get two with the pistol--drop it in, and you're more than a match for an assault by Asian water beetles, even the ones with Chobham armor and hoed ornaments. In the dark, making wine corks break-dance across the patio produces lunatic giggles. And, once you get used to the painfully-too-long trigger pull, accuracy is semi-amazing for any $130 piece of ordnance.

Two stern warnings: First, wear safety glasses! I know, yeah-yeah, pellets. Don't screw around. At 37 or 42 or however many years you got, you don't want Morn shriekin' "I told you so! Thirty years ago I told you so, and now you've gone and put your eye out with a BB gun!" Oh, man, spare me that!

Second, DO NOT appear holding this piece somewhere you shouldn't. Any rookie cop peepin' this thing will instantly see himself gettin' decorated by President Bush for burning a terrorist to the ground. I'd shoot you, too. Lotsa times.

Austin-Healy Roadster

You know about Austin Healy roadsters, right? They're sleek, racy, sexy, and don't run for beans. The Webley-Scott Tempest has a superb grip, fine balance, graceful lines, a clean, even trigger--and it sucks buttermilk.

You load this single-shot target pistol by releasing a "stirrup latch" just like those old, inaccurate Webley break-top revolvers, then cranking the barrel over 180 degrees, hard, for Pete's sake! The Webley is spring-powered rather than pneumatic-compression or CO2, so you get recoil, which is nice, along with an irritating buh-woing! which is not, for several reasons.

Passing gas: one man's journey toward air-gun Nirvana

American Handgunner, July-August, 2004 by John Connor

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